Desert Ruby
by Elia FireRing
Summary: What happens when a pampered girl like Lya Hershey goes out into the desert with her adventurous Uncle in search of the lost city of Hamanaptra? And the adventures that ensue. Rated T for safety. Review if you care to.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Ardeth Bey, Hamanaptra, or any person/place/thing associated with the move 'The Mummy' or 'The Mummy Returns'. Those belong to the writers, directors, and studio of said movies. _

_However I do own Lya Hershey, Corbit Hershey, Apu, , and other like peoples/places/ or things not associated with the movies mentioned above. _

_Just so you know. _

* * *

As if she wasn't there, a man roughly plowed past Lya, and several others in the market place. Lya scowled at the man, only able to catch a flash of dark clothes, a head covered by a black turban, and a tattoo on his left side before he disappeared from view.

Lya turned to her guide, squinting in the blazing Egyptian sun, "Apu? Are we close to the museum yet?"

They maneuvered through the crowd of dusty, unwashed peoples shouting in their Arabic tongues (that apparently had never seen a toothbrush) as gracefully as one could. Apu, the heavyset Arab with a trimmed brown goatee, turned slightly and she hurried past a man to hear Apu's slightly accented voice, "We should be coming up to it in a moment, ma'am."

Under her tan sunhat Lya's head throbbed slightly with the noise and heat; the sooner they could make it to the shelter of the museum, the better.

Lya's throat tickled unpleasantly as she restrained herself from sneezing again. Cairo definitely wasn't in her temperature zone.

The twin white-washed statues of a pharaoh standing opposite a large metal door with intricate hieroglyphs were a welcoming beacon to Lya as her and Apu squeezed past the last of the main part of the crowd just a few minutes later.

The Cairo Museum of Ancient Egyptian Artifacts.

Lya ascended the steps fluidly, finding the stone much more easily maneuverable upon then the sandy ground. It felt cool and solid, verses the busy, sandy and hot ground of Egypt.

Apu opened the door on the right and stepped to the side for Lya to enter first, she did so without hesitation. Though the museum was well lighted, it still took time for Lya's eyes to adjust to the cooler and quieter area, her head instantly felt a bit better now that she was out of the sun.

There was definitely English design in the museum. Unlike the colorful and intricate designs of the Arabs that depicted exotic places, the museum was dark and gloomy, as if reflecting the green and drizzly landscape of England herself.

Lya adjusted her hat and wiped some perspiration from her face as Apu walked ahead, "Mr. Corbit?"

Lya folded her hands in front of her as she looked about the place, this part of the museum was obviously a library with it's rows of thick dark bookshelves. Every here and there was a glass case standing upon it's own wooden podium with an artifact inside. Lya walked up to one such case and examined a dark bust of a female's head, her hair neat and perfectly shaped to look like an upside down 'u'. The woman stared straight ahead, unblinking in her cube of glass, forever to hold such a solemn expression.

Below, a golden plague read that this was an engagement gift from the groom depicting his bride-to-be. The corners of Lya's mouth twitched upward slightly, 'He didn't even make it so she smiled…I wonder how _that_ marriage turned out…'

"Mr. Corbit?" Apu called again, louder this time.

A man with combed back black hair in a well tailored suit came out from behind a bookcase and, looking at them for a moment, approached them with long strides, "Hello. You must be the Hershey party?"

He extended a hand towards them, shaking first Apu's then Lya's, "I am Mr. Samuel Smith. My employer, Mr. Corbit, will be pleased to know you are here. If you will please just follow me."

Lya observed offhandly that he looked only about two years older than herself.

They made their way across the polished floors of the library, walking towards another part of the library that held only artifacts, and of much greater size. A large black stone sat to the side that caught Lya's attention as she struggled to keep up with the two brisk walkers ahead of her who held there own conversation about the trip here. It was chipped on one side and looked as if the edges had been worn away, but three different languages were scribbled upon it, though Lya couldn't tell which. Perhaps Greek? Roman? Egyptian?

Old languages for sure.

This half of the library had two levels, and they ascended the stone steps.

Lya was not very athletic, and after traveling all day, this much walking was really not what she was looking forward too. She couldn't wait until they got to the hotel, where she could bathe and sleep…and if they didn't get there soon, she might end up doing both at the same time. Not that she wasn't looking to seeing her uncle again or anything, but resting for just a moment sounded good right about now.

They walked across the balcony overlooking the lower level, the railing was of a very solid looking stone, curved with lightly detailed balusters.

"-Mr. Corbit has some very exciting news that I've been specifically warned not to reveal to you, and I must say that it is very difficult to hold my tongue. But as it is Mr. Corbit's find I really mustn't." continued to Apu and Lya.

Lya hurried forward more, " 'Find'? Was it an artifact?"

Mr. Smith smiled over to her, "Oh, goodness no. But I cannot tell you what it is, Mr. Corbit is far too excited, if I told you it might mean my job haha."

A moment later they reached a large mahogany door.

Mr. Smith turned to them, "One moment please, I'll just make sure he's not too busy." Mr. Smith opened the door and slipped into the room, a few moments later he returned and opened the door all the way for them, "Mr. Corbit is most pleased you are here. Please come in."

They did so, and found themselves in an office decorated much like the rest of the museum; with heavy dark wood, green lamps, and stone.

Sitting behind a large desk was the balding but beloved Mr. Corbit, his eyes twinkled happily as he got up, "Lya! Goodness you've grown!"

Lya raced towards him, both with outstretched arms, "Uncle!" They hugged each other tightly. Lya laughed into his tobacco and peppermint smelling jacket, "I'm eighteen now uncle, I should hope I've grown since thirteen!"

"Oho! I did not know you were related." Apu watched them happily.

Lya smiled as the hug ended and she stayed near her uncle who shook Apu's hand warmly, "He's my mother's uncle, but we haven't seen each other in so long that if it weren't for the postal system we would never be able to communicate."

"Ah yes, what would you have done in your younger years had I not written you describing all of my fantastic adventures?" Mr. Corbit laughed.

Lya chuckled, "Perhaps I would then have never obsessed over Egypt so much and I could be sitting in my porch back home in the cool misty air right now, haha."

"Oh, but then you would not be able to see my latest discovery in person. I was so excited to tell you all that I forbid Mr. Smith to tell you, leaving that privilege to myself. He didn't tell you did he?" Mr. Corbit's eyes sparkled with mild accusation as he looked over at Mr. Smith who stood by the door.

"Sadly no, " Lya smiled, "which has not helped my curiosity one bit."

Mr. Corbit clapped his hands together, "Well my dearie I- Mr. Smith, please close those shades-I cannot risk anyone else finding out. You'll excuse my paranoia I hope, but I have some formidable competitors and I cannot risk this kind of a discovery being let out. Only the four of us will know about it, and if I'm correct, in a few more weeks…the world!"

Mr. Corbit sat back down behind his desk, Lya sat down on the edge of the chair opposite, Apu sat down on the one beside hers. Once Mr. Smith had drawn the shades the room appeared unnaturally dark for being in Cairo in the afternoon.

The excitement in the secrecy was gnawing away at Lya, who had never actually been a part of a secret greater than a close friend's weight or who she had a crush on in elementary school.

Mr. Corbit's voice lowered as he leaned forward in his chair, "Well you see, last Tuesday I had been out in the desert searching out a spot that historical evidence and ancient myths had lead me to believe was the actual place of the lost city of Hamanaptra."

Lya leaned further forward in her chair, it groaned in protest.

"You see I had set up camp and I went out very early in the morning, but when I looked back my camp had disappeared! Now, I hadn't roamed more than half a mile away, but my camp was gone! As I pondered what had happened, trying to keep my head straight and not thinking about being lost in the desert, the sun started to rise and my camp melted into view… which is when it occurred to me," Mr. Corbit leaned back in his chair satisfied and with as much twinkle in his eyes as a young boy's, "that the ancient Egyptians were no fools and would not place their most wealthy city right where any thief could find it."

Lya opened her eyes wide, "You mean-" _ACHOO!_

"Bless you."

"Thank you."

"I mean exactly," Corbit continued, "that Hamanaptra must've been hidden by a mirage all this time, and I have a strong feeling about that very spot. So I want you all to accompany me and a small team of diggers to go back and discover the city, where we will all be credited with a find so monumental that Carter's Tomb will be but a spot upon ours!"

_**Later at the hotel**_

Lya nearly fell into the bathtub in eager anticipation to once again be clean. The cool water and suds felt like bliss after her first day in Egypt. She had been so sticky that at first her floral printed dress would not come off, as if the thin material had been glued onto her skin by sweat.

She stayed in the tub so long that when she dressed in her nightgown and robe after tying her brown curly hair up into a bun, she couldn't slip her ring off of her finger.

It was a beautiful ring too.

A gold band that split and twisted in the font so that four parts of the gold looked woven to hold the medium teardrop-sized ruby in the middle, two of the woven strands were laced with silver, and one held a small diamond.

Her father had given each of his three eldest daughters such a ring for Valentine's Day, each slightly different.

Lya's had come to have a special meaning to her though, for the ruby it held looked as if a droplet of blood. Blood was constantly being spilt, as she had come to realize as she got older, especially the blood of the innocent. She could not look at the ring without thinking of the babies of her country, being slaughtered by their own mothers in the name of 'Woman's Rights'. There was even talk of legalizing it and turning it into a medical practice; a 'safer' alternative then do-it-yourself murder.

Lya swore to herself every time she took it off at night and put it on in the morning that she would defend the defenseless, and always try to do what was right. Even if it ment being alone for the rest of her life with this controversial belief.

It didn't ever want to seem to come off, but logically if she didn't take it off before sleep the ruby might fall off and she would lose it forever.

Lya decided that just for tonight she would wear it, since it seemed so intent on staying upon her finger, the right-hand middle finger to be more precise.

She walked out from the bathroom, tying her robe as she entered her bedroom. A queen-sized canopy bed stood in the middle of the room, it's curtains swaying in the breeze off the small balcony. Lya walked over to the phonograph, passing a white couch where she had placed the majority of her suitcases and traveling bags.

Lya looked through some records and decided on 'Please Forgive Me' by Bryan Adams (don't question it :p ).

She swayed to the music, calm and soothing, speaking of a type of love she had never before known. It sounded painful, and wonderful. She was not sad that she had nobody, but whenever she saw a couple her age gazing into each other's eyes… she knew apart of her was missing. It made her slightly lonely.

She walked out onto the balcony, and let the cooling breeze of Cairo blow across her face, a few stands of defiant hair blew about her face.

The orange setting sun turning them red with each of her movements.

Lya decided that perhaps Egypt wasn't so bad after all, at least, not at this time of day. Desert sunsets sure were pretty.

Before it became too cold, Lya walked back inside, shutting the shutters behind her and fastening them shut.

Hanging her bathrobe on the high bedpost, Lya climbed into bed and drew the curtains. After her three minutes of prayers she let her head fall down comfortably upon the linen pillow. Within seconds her lids drooped heavily and she was asleep.

_**The next day, about 10 A.M. **_

Lya had never before ridden a camel, and after sitting on one for an hour, she never wanted to again. They were hard on the rear end, smelly, made the most disgusting noises, and her camel in particular seemed to dislike her. The moment she tried to climb on it stood and ran, roughly depositing her on the hard ground and soiling her kaki pants and white blouse.

She had always wanted to travel about in the desert like she had heard of her uncle doing on his adventures, but whenever she acted out such journeys in the nursery she hadn't even imagined the heat and over-all discomfort.

Corbit led them all, looking every bit as if he were right at home upon his pack, swaying easily with his camel over the dunes.

Lya could still see Cairo in the distance, but she already had motion sickness from her camel.

Mr. Smith rode next to her with Apu a bit behind them near the hired help, consisting of about twenty men leading a few donkeys loaded with supplies.

Lya glanced over to Mr. Smith from under her wide rimmed sunhat, he didn't seem to be in any great discomfort, but it was obvious that this wasn't his favorite pass-time. He sat squinting in the sun as he rode alongside her, tolerating the weather and camel's movements much better than herself. She observed further that he had lathered his pale skin in sun protecting lotion, but it had mostly been absorbed or sweated off.

Lya was a bit surprised, she hadn't expected him to take such a trip so calmly and patiently, he looked more like the indoorsy English-schoolboy type.

Lya decided to break the silence after another hour, when the sun became so much hotter that her head began to pound if she didn't chug some of the warm metallic canteen water, "…Does my uncle go on many desert trips with you?"

Mr. Smith looked over at her with a slightly furrowed brow in the sunlight, "Huh? Oh, no not very often. I usually stay back and handle matters at the Museum."

He smiled a bit as he looked forward, "So when Mr. Corbit offers to take me on one of his travels, I know it is very important to him, and so far, all of his hunches have never been off."

Lya looked forward at her uncle, still at ease in the strengthening sun, whether humanly possible or not he didn't even look as if he were sweating.

Not even the weather could touch this aging man.

Lya smiled as she leaned back slightly in her sadle. The camel growled as she did so and Lya looked at it with disbelief, 'Is this thing possessed…?!'

After a short time later Mr. Smith rode close to her, "…It's almost noon, the hottest part of the day… and I couldn't help but notice your delicate state in the sun, miss. Don't take offence, but perhaps it would be best if you rested for a bit at this time?"

Lya, blowing through her lips, looked towards the camel with disapproval, "Thank you but, how could you even sleep on these things?"

Mr. Smith smiled lightly, "Just lean back, stare at the camel's head, and let the heat make you drowsy. Try eating something first though, it is almost lunchtime."

Lya smiled, "Thank you."

Mr. Smith simply nodded and let his camel move forward a little more so they wouldn't have to compete for the narrow path at the top of the dune.

Lya took out a small lemon bar from one of her top packs and sucked on it for awhile, not trusting her stomach to keep anything down at this time. Lya's legs and rear end ached horribly the entire time as she had tensed herself to keep from falling off with each of the camel's steps. She didn't know how she'd be able to relax and fall asleep, while at the same time, staying on top of this monstrosity.

But as she stuffed the lemon bar back into her pack, the sun -if at all possible- had gotten even hotter, and she started to feel sicker and so exhausted that she decided to take Mr. Smith's advice.

Taking another swig of the warm water that now tasted so metallic that she could have been drinking blood, Lya leaned back despite her camel's growls, and stared at it's head. Slowly her eyes started to shut without warning and staying on top of the camel became less and less of a concern, until her body began to relax and she fell into an odd sort of slumber. It was not a deep sleep, but not quite light enough to have dreams.

Perhaps only minutes went by, or hours, for all she knew it could have been a day.

Colors started to swirl around her, and something started to get louder and louder. A fuzzy, roaring sort of noise along with shouts and a stinging sensation against her skin.

Breathing became more difficult and Lya suddenly woke up coughing and sneezing, unable to see anything as flying gusts of sand hailed down upon her, her hat tugging at her throat as the wind tried to blow it away, her hair flying everywhere.

She quickly covered her mouth with her sleeve, her dry eyes watering as she wheezed, trying to breath and see. Her arm went up to try and cover her eyes to little avail as she realized that she had woken up in the middle of a sandstorm.

She couldn't see anything or anyone, but she heard shouts nearby, it sounded like Apu and Corbit. At one time they sounded both in front of and behind her, Lya reached out for the reins with one hand and tried to steer her camel towards the shifting voices but she couldn't tell where they were coming from.

She tried to call out but her voice came out quiet and raspy, and only more sand blew into her mouth, choking and suffocating her.

The voices were all but gone now, and only the stinging wind and sand could be seen and heard. Whether time sped up or slowed down was unknown to her as she stayed in a small bubble of vision, surrounded by a wall of moving sand. Everything but her and her camel were gone.

She grabbed her hat that wrapped tightly around her throat, she held it to her face and stuck her head inside of it. She wouldn't need to see anyway, and at least it blocked most of the stinging sand and made breathing slightly easier.

She crouched down and got as near to it as she could, holding onto her hat with both hands, trying to cover her ears at the same time. With little to absolutely no sunlight reaching her everything was black in her hat, and the only thing she could still sense was the stinging wind, roaring noise, and her labored breathing. After some time her hands and neck went numb with pain from the sand, and she lost most feeling and sense of motion, aware only of the constant sway of her camel.

Time had gained a new definition.

It was no longer day or night, it couldn't be measured in hours or seconds. It was determined by each stinging grain of sand, by each movement of her camel, and by each labored breath. The cold steadily grew as well, without sunlight it was not only becoming darker but also colder.

Lya decided that she needed to write to the Church for a correction; hell wasn't bright and fiery…she should know, she was lost in this unending, hellish, dark cold.

THIS was hell.


	2. Chapter 2

After so many camel sways and desperate coughs the numbing became greater and the stinging sand felt more like a foot when it fell asleep: tingling and uncomfortable, but not quite painful.

Slowly that faded too, and the roaring sand became quieter and quieter as it was pushed back into her mind, though it still remained cold and dark.

If possible, it became colder, and the still slightly present numbing sensation of the burning sands began to feel more like stings of cold.

Lya was too exhausted and in pain to care what the sand felt like anymore. She just wanted to sleep, to sleep in a bed.

Her hotel room, or even a shack for pity's sake!

She had never known such discomfort and agony, a privileged girl like her had not once been alone for more than a few minutes without servants, guides, family, friends, or the like. There was always somebody.

When had she given all that up and opted for this stupid camel and hat?! When had she decided to leave the cool morning mist of England for blasting sand and scorching heat? Uncle Corbit had filled her childhood with adventure stories and exotic places, Lya only realized now that her Uncle had to have been a nut. Such stories were only for children who could act them out in the nursery with a governess crouching on her hands and knees being ridden like an elephant or camel.

Had Lya only known how deceiving it all was; how one moment the desert was a beautiful exotic friend, then a scorching desert wasteland, and finally a dark roaring enemy.

Lya slowly sagged farther and farther to the right of her camel, exhausted. In normal measured time at least seven hours had to have passed in the nightmarish storm.

She wasn't sure when she fell off of the camel, but eventually she was aware of laying on the ground looking up at a dark sky sparkling with a million stars. Her hat lay to the side of her throbbing head. Lya felt a warm trickling sensation running down her neck, she dreamily looked to her right to see a rock jutting up from the ground.

Lya wasn't exactly sure, and thinking was very fuzzy and difficult, but she thought she may have hit her head when she fell off of the camel.

Lya looked back up at the starry sky and chuckled to herself oddly, '…Stupid camel…'.

Feeling weighted down, but at the same time light and airy, Lya slowly decided to stand up.

With her legs under her, she used her arms to lift herself up, butt first. She watched as black drops fell from her face and dissolved into the blue sand below.

She teetered dangerously as she stood up, her feet sinking slightly in the sand so that her shoes filled with it. Her muscles groaned with her movements.

She looked around, taking a few odd steps. Everything looked fuzzy and blue, a small sliver of bright moon showed a different desert scene from when she left Cairo. It was not all sand and dunes, but instead an endless scattering of rocks atop sand. Small rocks, big rocks, boulders, and off in the distance were some cliffs.

Lya shivered as a cold breeze wafted through the barren area. She had a bad feeling about this place… but then after hitting her head and losing some sense, that wasn't saying much.

Looking down her camel tracks led off into the midst of the rocky terrain, the tracks slowly filling back up with more cold winds. Lya staggered after them, wiping from her face what she thought was a tickling hair but her hand came back covered in the wet black stuff.

She had forgotten about that. About hitting her head.

She walked on regardless. When had the storm ended? If the camel tracks could still be seen, how long ago did she fall off the camel? Why couldn't she see it now? Where was she? And who in the world had decided that blood should turn black in the moonlight?

Lya staggered on through the rocks, after some time she looked down at two scorpions as she passed them, a few inches to the side of her feet. They raised their venomous tails defensively, claws out in warning.

Had Lya been thinking straight, she would have given them a wider berth. But at the moment she didn't quite care. She just had to find her camel.

How many other venomous creatures she passed hiding around the rocks she didn't know and didn't care, she just kept moving forwards, the camel tracks all but gone now.

The warm trickling on her face ceased and began to turn cold long ago, she held her arms close to her chest as she walked on in clothing ment for ninety degree weather or hotter.

Something made her uncomfortable the whole time, something she knew that she should be attending to, but it wasn't until she started coughing that she knew what it was.

She was thirsty.

Her throat ached for water after drinking nothing but sand for however long, her tongue swelled for it as well. Once she knew how thirsty she really was, she realized how much her fuzzy head had been hiding from her. If she had known an hour earlier how thirsty she had been she would have nearly passed out beside a boulder from the now labeled pain.

Lya realized that things seemed to hurt more when you could pinpoint where and why.

She stopped beside a jagged rock towering a few feet above her head, she leaned against it and unhooked her metal canteen from her belt… the only thing she still had with her that the camel hadn't wandered away with, besides the clothes and hat she wore.

Lya unscrewed the cap with difficulty, her fingers rubbed raw from sand screamed in protest at the metal cover.

But the fuzzy feeling soon took over again and she managed to unscrew it with little pain. The canteen was less than half empty, but Lya drank the disgustingly flavored water with vigor.

Her stomach protested and cramped and she threw up most of what she drank, bringing her to her knees with heaves.

Lya cried out mournfully as she clutched her stomach, her head starting to throb again. But at the very least she had wet her tongue and throat some, and after she had rested a few more moments on the ground she ventured to take another -smaller- sip.

It stayed down, and after a few more minutes she tried again.

Drinking seemed to work that way, but her head still throbbed, she was hungry, cold, still thirsty, and only one-fourth of her water supply remained.

She felt the wound on her head, it was dry now but it still didn't feel pretty, and lots of sand particles had surely blown into it. It felt like a large crusty bump, behind her right temple and hidden in desert blown hair.

Everything spinned slightly sideways when she touched it and golden flecks danced before her eyes as the fuzzy feeling intensified. Lya resisted the urge to throw up again.

With much effort she screwed the lid back onto the canteen and forced herself to stand again. Yawning, and more tired than she realized, Lya staggered forward a few more steps before collapsing into the soft sand.

Her eyes threatened to shut and her head sagged along with her limp arms. Lya tried to remember any kind of desert survival techniques.

Most animals stayed under rocks during the day, and came out to hunt at night, she was pretty sure. With this many rocks around she started to slowly and groggily push past the fogginess of her mind to realize that she was in a dangerous place.

Lya wanted to sleep on the soft sand, to just lay down and sleep right where she kneeled, but she remembered somewhere that scorpions hurt when they stung. And that desert snakes killed.

Lya slowly got back up, and half fell on the nearest boulder. Her shoes scraped against it as she scrambled to climb, her limbs aching horribly in protest as her raw skin rubbed against the hard rock. Too tired to even care that her skin may never more be soft like a privileged womans' again, Lya lay down upon the boulder's top with a grunt.

It was not comfortable, but it did not matter. In a few moments, Lya was asleep.

**The next day**

Lya slowly awakened to find that her face was resting on a mound of scorching sand.

The grogginess had not really worn off and it took her at least a minute to sit up and figure out that during the night sometime she had rolled off the boulder (narrowly missing another smaller but harmful-to-fall-upon rock) and landed on the sand beneath.

Lya wanted to lay down again to sleep but the heat was too intense already and she found herself more thirsty then she had yet ever been.

She unfastened her canteen bottle again with stinging fingers and sipped some water while looking around. Sitting in the shade here would not be an option, mainly because (unfrightened due to her fuzzy mind) a few feet over a snake sat hissing at her in the shade of the boulder she had fallen from.

Lya rubbed the back of her sore neck, but that only brought to light her sore back, then sore fingers and arms, her sore nose and throat and eyes, her sore legs, her sore feet, and everything else that could be sore.

Lya sipped the water slower and slower but in a few minutes it was all gone and Lya knew that she would never know anything else in the rest of her life but sore. There was no way she'd be able to get better; she had run out of water.

Lya wasn't a desert girl, but she knew… That that was that.

Lya decided that if that was so, death wasn't so bad… in her groggy and fuzzy mind (even more so then yesterday) dieing wasn't so bad in the desert and that at least she could die with a nice tan complexion.

Lya laughed loudly but didn't hear it the first time and only caught the echo of it.

Slightly mad with the bump on her head, intense heat, and lack of water Lya laughed even louder. She didn't know why exactly… but something amused her. Maybe it was the hiss of the snake beside her?

She wondered what would happen if she touched that vile slithering creature?

Lya slowly stuck out her right hand to touch it, the snake hissed louder and tensed tighter into itself. Lya was only a foot away from it before her hand turned slightly and the sun reflected off of the ruby in her ring.

Lya paused, then drew her hand back.

She examined the ring, quite forgetting that she wore it.

It looked so beautiful in the sunlight, she had never noticed it like this before. Maybe the Egyptian sun made it look different than the England sun?

It glittered and shone so brilliantly that Lya was so caught up in it that she forgot about the snake and wondered instead what she was doing sitting there in the sand.

Lya stood with the aid of another rock beside her and slowly trudged through the sand again, with no idea of where she was going, she simply held her right hand in front of her and followed the ring.

Wherever the sun made the ruby twinkle in the best way, that was the way she took. For all she knew she could have been traveling in circles, but as it happened she wondered farther and father into the rocky area.

Lya stumbled many times for lack of seeing where she went, and lack of proper hydration, but after a very long and thirsty travel Lya had wondered nearer to the cliffs.

The next time she stumbled she could not find the strength or will to rise again. Perhaps if she had been one of the local inhabitants of such a place she could have made it another day… but Lya had never known such harsh realities as was her current situation.

She fully allowed herself to fall into the sand and heat, the thirst would have been unbearable were it not for the cloud still hanging over her senses.

Lya looked up at the sky dreamily, and after some time she looked over to the cliffs.

Lya was sure she imagined it, or saw a mirage like her uncle and often described to her, but up at the top of the cliff just above the ledge… there were horses.

Black horses, and black figures riding atop them.

Lya smiled to herself, 'Now I see far away rocks at the top of a cliff to be horses… at the very least my mind could have conjured up an frosty glass of lemonade… why in the world would it be horses…?!'

Slowly even the image of the horses blurred with the landscape, and to Lya, everything became black and silent.

…until she swore she heard the echo of horse's neigh and a steady muffled _plopping_ sound of hooves upon sand.

Lya, not truly connected to the world in any conscious way, amused her dreamy self that it was indeed a horse that made such sounds, but soon even that noise drifted away and everything truly did turn black and silent for Lya.


	3. Chapter 3

_Please comment if you like, and if I get too hormonal with my characters please be sure to tell me! haha, I don't want to change Ardeth so completely that he is not the same character... _

* * *

Fragments of odd shadows, images and voices echoed in Lya's head. Whether a dream or reality, she knew not and cared not.

All she knew was that it was too hot.

Everything burned, and she shivered uncontrollably in the heat, though it was dark all around her.

Every part of her ached with some cruel flame, her feet, legs, torso, arms, fingers… but worst of all was her head. In that was an unquenchable fire that burned greatest behind her ear and sent out throbs of painful heat to the rest of her body. That pain made her stomach weak and she felt a sick twisting sensation within it.

All the unbearable pain made her constantly lose and regain consciousness in a vicious cycle of fitful episodes of sleep and wake.

The agony was great, but through it there were moments when it lessened ever so slightly. In a particularly painful moment of half-consciousness a very such relief was mercifully granted to her as something slowly wiped the pain away. At least, from her face.

It was such a relief that Lya managed to lift open her heavy lids (more by spasms then actual willpower) enough to see a blurred dark outline of a shadow above her.

The shadow did not acknowledge her attempt, but remained bent above her as before, slowly wiping a wet cloth over her face and neck.

Eventually Lya could make out a sound, something that had been buzzing at the corner of her mind now became more distinct with another wave of consciousness.

It was low and deep and had a sort of lulling rhythm about it. It took a moment for her to realize that it was not simply a noise, but a voice singing softly and soothingly that helped take her mind off of the fire as she listened. While the rhythm was soothing, the words were not, for Lya could not make sense of them and she contributed her inability to do so to the fire pounding most behind her ear.

The singing shadow took the cloth away after a moment, and the fire started up again enough to cause a moan to be uttered through Lya's desert-worn lips.

The shadow brought the cloth back and repeated the soothing motion.

Lya slipped away in the dark again then. How many times she woke after that she did not know, and it was possible to her that perhaps she had never woke and only dreamt she had.

Though whether real or dream, the shadow remained close beside her either slowly tipping in a small amount of water past her lips to ease the fire in her chest, or soothing the radiating heat from her face with the wet cloth as it lulled her to sleep with it's song of nonsense words.

After some considerably long and miserable time the fire slowly began to fade with countless cloth wipes and small sips of water forced down her throat. In time, the bits of unconsciousness grew longer and deeper until they equaled actual sleep. Eventually she slept so soundly that she no longer sensed her surroundings, and black nothingness overcame her the way sleep usually does to one who has undergone a great physical and/or mental ordeal.

****

After some unknown time

Lya slowly opened her eyes, she wasn't sure how long she had tried to open them, but coming out of such a sleep it might have taken a full hour to.

She turned her head and looked around the area with strained and tired eyes, for the first time truly aware of her surroundings.

Lya found herself to be inside a shaded room decorated with a small wooden table a few feet away from her that had all sorts of papers scattered on it's surface, an unlit brass lantern on top, a few rugs of some sort of animal fur beneath, and some chests stacked on the opposite side of the bed she lay on. The room's walls, observed to be made of tent, shook slightly in the wind.

Lya stirred a bit between layers of soft furs, trying to recollect all that had passed, 'Where am I…?'

She sat up some to look around and found that the fire had all but disappeared, though something weighed awkwardly on the side of her head. She slowly reached a hand back to touch the unfamiliar mass and found that beneath her tender fingers was a heavy bundle of cloth.

Apparently a bandage over her wound.

Something sticky and odd smelling kept it in place and Lya could only assume it to be some sort of foreign medicine.

She didn't dwell long on that thought though.

She was more concerned about other matters; Like where she was, why she was there, what had happened, who had brought her here, and where her uncle and every one else was.

These thoughts should have overwhelmed her the entire time she lay glued to the comfortable fur bed in her fever, but she had been incapable of such thoughts at the time of the unquenchable fire.

Now, however, she could think freely.

She thought back to the sandstorm where she had been separated from her Uncle and the rest.

It was hard to bring back, like a sort of foggy dream. After all, she had woken up in the middle of the storm and had heard only voices in the stinging, suffocating sand.

Her uncle would have turned back, not going on without her. He would have informed the Cairo police, the Egyptian military, the English military, and hired hundreds of men to go out into the desert to find her.

That was what must have happened. One of those such men had found her, and he would bring her back to her uncle for a grand sum of money. All would be well again.

Lya lay back down on the bed, at ease with the idea.

She lay atop the furs in comfort, noticing only a light throb beneath the bandage. It was warm in the tent, but her sunburned face seemed to be the only thing truly too hot in the room. It was a much more desirable situation then atop a boulder in the scorching desert sun.

Lya stared up at the roof of the spacious tent, at least five feet above the raised bed, 'I wonder why my rescuer set up such a large temporary tent? I would have thought such a mercenary would be more intent on efficiency then comfort… it's almost as if this were a more permanent residence…oh what do I care anyways? Maybe he likes to travel in style?'

As Lya thought over this her eyes drooped lower and lower as she stared at the dark overhead fabric. It wasn't easy for her to wake, and now her body demanded that she go back to sleep, and that thinking would be reserved for a later time.

The dark tent blackened even further as she drifted off to sleep… but it was not a deep sleep, as she could still hear the rustling tent in the wind, and feel the soft fur beneath her neck and fingers. Odd as it was, she could sense the world still, but she could not move… which is the most odd feeling one could have if never felt before.

Lya, somewhere in her mind, thought that such a sleep had been brought on by her head injury.

She spent a long portion of her time in this suspended reality, listening only to the tent, and thinking little thoughts every now and then, but not capable of thinking deeper ones as she was yet in still some form of sleep.

However, a new sound soon interrupted these scattered thoughts.

Outside the entrance of the tent (the side of the tent opposite of the bed's side) a man's voice spoke in a language Lya could only place as the language the people in the marketplace spoke; some sort of Arabic.

It was a deep, rouge voice of one who had spent a good deal of a long life in the desert. Another voice, equally deep, but younger and more in-command, answered with a short reply.

The tent flap was pulled open then and someone stepped inside. They did not hesitate over crossing the threshold, and went straight to the table, judging by the long-measured footsteps and rustle of clothing.

A strange noise was heard and a bright yellow flicker danced just outside of Lya's eyelids. It took her a moment to realize that the lantern had been lit on the table.

Papers rustled and then there was a pause. After a moment the footsteps resumed, but slower and more carefully now. They neared the bed.

Had Lya been truly awake, her breath would have caught and betrayed her, but outwardly her body remained oblivious to the approaching person.

The footsteps stopped in front of the bed's side. A moment later a quite rustle of clothing betrayed the person to be bending down, and in another moment a large, leathery hand rested lightly on her forehead and briefly rested on her checks and neck as well. A feathery touch, as if not wanting to touch longer then necessary.

Another rustle of clothing, and after another few strained moments a damp cloth touched her face lightly.

----------------------POV change---------------------------------------------

The girl twitched slightly as he wiped the heat from her red, swollen face, but her eyes remained still behind the lids proving that she was in a deeper sleep where dreams and fever could not disturb her. The threat of her waking did not seem likely.

He was somewhat relieved that she was doing better from when Mohammed had first retrieved her from just below the desert cliff. Her head injury hadn't been healing properly because of the sand, and if it had not been drained when it was by himself... she would have died of blood poisoning, assuming that she found water and lived that long on her own.

He had taken to taking care of her, being the only one in the camp who had knowledge of the modern medicinal arts, she surely would have perished without his help.

He removed the cloth and reached down below the bed, taking out a shallow, round, tin can. He unscrewed the top to reveal a green powdery substance that he added some water to from the bowl he had been dipping the cloth in.

Mixing it into a paste with his finger the green substance began to reek of aloe; a medicinal gift given to him by his brothers roaming near Ethiopia.

He bent over the girl and gently began to spread the paste over her face, whose red skin seemed to radiate so much heat that he felt as if his finger rose a couple of degrees.

Despite the green paste, red skin, and tangled hair of the girl laying before him, he felt an odd sort of sensation as he touched her, so he made sure that the touches were as light as possible, and he crushed out the sensation with a clenched jaw.

This sick girl was his temporary patient, but she was not welcome here…and he certainly wouldn't be feeling any sort of _sensations_. He was a warrior, and tribal leader of his people, why should treating one -who was not even an Egyptian- feel so…awkward?

His gaze lowered slightly, he knew why.

Perhaps it was time to finally take himself a tribal wife, for when a man started to get such awkward and longing-like sensations from touching one who was not even a native… he shook his head. He would wait no longer, as soon as his patient was treated and sent away, he would seek a wife from one of the nearby tribes of his people.

Allah knew that he wasn't interested in any of the females in his tribe at least.

Due to a momentary absence of awareness, he had not been aware that for that past minute a pair of eyes watched him intently as they gained greater levels of consciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

_Well, I haven't quite finished this story (it should be about 1 quarter of what I wanted) but I figured I left you guys hanging with the last one so I minds well give you something to read. I will add to this and edit it later, but this is what I've got so far. Enjoy._

----------------Back to Original POV---------------------------------------------------------------

After a minute of struggling Lya had managed to 'wake' herself and open her eyes, finally able to look upon her mystery caretaker.

Lya could see him clearly now in the lantern's light, or at least, she could see his dark shadow as being more than a black mass hovering above her.

His hair was black or dark brown and shoulder length, but the rest of him was too dark to make out clearly…except for a dull light at two spots in his face that Lya could only assume to be his eyes reflecting the dim light.

Gently, a cool sort of tickling spread over her face that quenched her sunburn with a plant-smelling gooey sensation. It wasn't altogether unpleasant.

Lya lay there staring at the man (it obviously was a man by the small amount of light illuminating the outline of a strong copper-colored jaw line) as he spread the gooey substance over her face quickly and barely touching his skin to hers, either ignoring the fact that she watched him or unaware of it.

Lya felt an odd sort of peace as she watched him, the dull light in his eyes flickering slightly every now and then, perhaps signifying that he was in some deep sort of thoughts.

Suddenly the man hesitated, then removed his hand from spreading the gooey plant-paste over the rest of her face. He looked down at her, the dull light from his eyes vanished, leaving an even vaguer outline for her to focus on as his face simply became one dark mass.

He spoke.

Lya took a moment to realize that what he said wasn't in English and she couldn't understand a syllabul of it. It took her a moment-not out of grogginess- but out of being stunned; his voice was so deep, his foreign words so annunciated and flowing that not being able to understand what he said seemed…wrong. As if there was a right and wrong language and Lya only knew the wrong one.

"Perhaps English then?"

A deep voice, but not overpoweringly deep like Apu's. His words were clear but, although English, they were not as they should have been. They seemed to…roll and blend, but still each word was separate, each sylabul annunciated perfectly…but differently. The vowels seemed to be said a bit longer and more…more…song-like? Lya couldn't be sure, she had to hear them again.

His tone was not harsh, rather, it was soft and a bit indifferent. Something resembling curiosity shone through, but not eagerness or anticipation. Lya wasn't quite sure what it was, but she easily decided that she must hear it again, and his voice was not intimidating to prevent her from speaking. Quite the opposite.

"Where am I? Who are you?" She looked over at him, trying to prop herself up on her elbows but only succeeding in a headache as she tried to move unresponsive limbs.

If the man sensed that she was having difficulty, he showed nothing.


End file.
